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“I shall have your right to inflict ‘vast quantities of extra trouble’ written into your settlement,” he said, and sealed his promise with another kiss.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

AN UNEXPECTED CONSEQUENCE

It was a few days, Elizabeth discovered, before she and Darcy could truly proceed with actual planning for the wedding. Mrs Bennet was so ecstatic at the news of their engagement, that she immediately began besieging his housekeeper, Mrs Reynolds, with suggestions for a celebratory dinner menu; kind man that he was, he decided that he ought to invite a few of his closest neighbours to meet his bride.

The night of the dinner party, she was ready early, and lingered amongst the library bookshelves instead of going directly to the drawing room; it was there that her bridegroom discovered her.

“It might have been better to wait until after my family’s departure, before introducing me to your friends. I cannot guarantee that my mother or younger sisters will not say something embarrassing,” she told him, giving voice to her worries.

Darcy smiled, that certain smile he had that was just for her. She had seen, since her arrival, how many people sought him out—his stewards, of course, but also a steady stream of others. Everyone from the vicar to certain shopkeepers from the nearby town of Lambton to various tenants not only requested his time, but were obviously welcome to do so. It told her that not only was he eminently just in his opinions of others, but he was a hard-working gentleman, rather than simply a man of leisure. He had a certain quality to his attention, that told one that he was listening with an earnest consideration. It was probably why so many wished for it.

“Every time they say something excruciatingly awful, I will note it down, and keep it in reserve for when Lady Catherine visits,” he answered teasingly. “She is sure to be offensive. Did I ever tell you that she has always entertained the notion that I shall marry her daughter?”

“No, I do not think you mentioned it,” Elizabeth replied, knowing very well he was trying to take her mind away from her worries. As a tactic, it was remarkably effective.

“Yes. She has been bent upon the pairing since I was in leading-strings. My parents supported the idea as well.”

“Ah. Why were you not in favour? According to my cousin, she is everything a man could want in a wife.” She could not help feeling a little envious; it would be very nice to be able to bring a fortune in property and wealth to Pemberley, to him.

Darcy drew her into his arms, heedless of anyone who might enter the library. “You have met my cousin,” he said, his voice a low rumble that filled her with unnamed yearnings. “Would any man enchanted by Elizabeth Bennet be attracted to poor Anne?”

She was not proof against his devotion to her, his adoration, his need. In his love for her, she found confidence, she found strength, she found hope. It had taken some time for her to believe it was real, but now that she did, within the safety of that caring, envy fled, replaced with a return of her usual poise, and concern for his cousin.

“Oh, dear. I do feel sorry for her; she has borne a great weight of sorrow, I think. I do not like to think of breaking her heart.”

He smiled gently. “Well, as to that, she has never had any romantic feelings for me, either. I do not suppose she will care one way or another.”

Elizabeth shook her head at him. “What did you tell Lady Catherine about me in your express?”

“That from my first glance at you, I knew that my heart was forever held captive, and that in return, you held no defences against my charm.”

Elizabeth laughed. It was another thing she loved—he did not take himself too seriously. But it was a more serious subject she found herself considering. “Does she know about what happened to your cousin, with Mr Wickham?”

“Absolutely she does not—she would have said something and has never mentioned it. My aunt has never met a secret that she did not feel best revealed.”

“This particular secret, however… She would of course want to protect her daughter.”

“Yes, but she would have been unable to resist complaining to her family and deriding Anne. Her nature is not a forgiving one. I believe my cousin and my father must have collaborated on some scheme, at the time, to prevent her mother from ever learning of it. I believe it is also why he went to the trouble of conveying to the unknown Elizabeth Bennet a house in Sheffield. Undoubtedly, he was grateful for her—for your intervention—but he also meant to move one possessing such information as you had as far away as he could from any place where Anne was known, whilst keeping you close enough to him to judge whether his new tenant might be of a nature to gossip.”

“And generous enough to ensure I had plenty of reasons not to gossip. It was an incredible gift. Your father must have loved his niece.”

Darcy sighed, pulling her down beside him onto the sofa. “Yes, he did. Her own father died when she was only three or four years old. When she was younger, she used to trail my father about, finding any excuse to be near him. She was inconsolable when he died. In return, he cared for her deeply and was a bit disappointed, I think, to know that I could find only a brotherly affection for her. By the time he died, he must have known it was unlikely that we would ever find you, and not a hint of her troubles had ever surfaced. Yet, he did not change his will. If there was ever an opportunity to thank you, he wanted it done. The Sheffield house would have remained empty until it fell into ruins, had you never been found.”

“That would certainly have been a waste.”

“Do you believe in coincidences?” he asked, tucking her into his side.

She peered up at him thoughtfully. “I think I must. It was such a remote chance that we would ever meet, and that you would find your missing Elizabeth.”

“I do not,” he said. “You are the woman I never knew I was searching for. In fact, I was so blinded by my own misperceptions, that I nearly missed you, even when you were right before my eyes. I fled from your presence—fled from my own heart—and yet…once again, in Kent, miraculously, there you were. I thought I did not have the courage to resist you when, after all, I was hardly worthy to ask for your hand. You did right, refusing my hubris; you ought to have been lost to me forever. Yet, a will drawn up years before, when you were practically still a child, gave me the excuse to do better by you, to prove I had a chance of becoming the man you deserve. A series of coincidences? I cannot believe it. I was yours and you were mine, somehow, before the world was. A merciful God gave me the opportunity to admit my failures and try again. And again.”

Tenderness filled her. “Then no. I shall not believe in coincidences, either.”

Somewhat to Darcy’s relief, the party went off without incident; while he did not care overmuch what the world thought of Elizabeth’s family, he knew that she would, and he wanted her to be at ease with her new neighbours. A few of the daughters of the neighbourhood had come with their parents, and Miss Lydia and Miss Catherine seemed so taken with their new acquaintances, they behaved with more restraint than was their wont. His vicar’s wife immediately found a kindred spirit in Miss Mary. Mrs Bennet met her match in Lady Gates, who was so extremely talkative that she dominated most of the feminine conversations; still, her gossip was of such a nature as to deeply interest her listeners, so no one truly seemed to mind. Mr Bennet, naturally, held much ability to be pleasing when he put forth the effort to do so. Mercifully, he had done it, and Elizabeth clearly felt more a part of her new neighbourhood by the time it was over. She had been so happy after the party was ended, so relieved and even, he thought, excited for new friendships begun.

It made it all the more difficult to leave her now.